All that's Lost: Title Pending
by Lashael
Summary: Rating is also pending, mild language exists so far. Spyro is now fifteen and has actually grown from his short stature. Swamped with celebrity and popularity, Spyro is ready for another adventure and has found it much to his surprise. Updates coming soon


**Maelstrom: Chapter One**

Spyro the Dragon (is that what everyone had to call me? Didn't they know that I actually had a last name?), sat proudly, overlooking the Artisans atop twin waterfalls. It was amazing. Not the view, him. He, Spyro the short little purple dragon, had actually grown. Yes he was now seven and a half feet tall, and fifteen years old. He was relieved. No one could imagine what it was like to be vertically challenged while save the world, how many times? Seven? Eight? It didn't really matter now, things had calmed down on the Dragon Realms, on Avalar, the Forgotten Worlds and wherever else he had been. Strange, to actually sit and relax without going on adventures, trotting around various unknown worlds collecting treasures and flaming bad guys. Actually he enjoyed the last part and he was extremely restless. He could never sit for long, especially with other dragons and creatures around. The long epics had taken its toll on the young dragon.

Ripto, the amazing short wizard who would never die, was now dead. And after all the times that Spyro had taken him on, destroyed his creations and torched his hide, he goes off and dies choking on a lamb chop. Spyro began laughing. Go figure. Elora was older, and married as expected. Females, in Spyro's opinion, put to much importance on marriage. Actually they put to much importance on almost everything except the important stuff. Hunter was married as well, to Bianca. He had fallen into the ultimate love trap. Spyro snorted and shook his head.

Spyro himself had no girlfriend, as imagined, but many admirers. The only female he could stand to be around was Cynder. She too had grown but found herself busy with her own training. Ember finally gave up on him and found herself within the welcoming company of Flame. A half smirk crept up his muzzle at the thought. Flame was a good dragon and a better one than Spyro if he was able to put up with Ember. Spyro sighed, legs itching to move again and stood, his purple scales gleaming like gems. His wings had grown tremendously and he was finally able to fly on his own accord without the help of some magic vortex or whatever.

Lately life had been relaxing but boring. The Elders were always asking him for help with something, but Spyro was growing restless again. He was so used to battles, exploring and adventures that without them he was just a dragon with wonderful fighting abilities and nothing to use them against. A waste.

"I guess I should be happy. No one is trying to destroy the realms again," he muttered, his long tail swinging back and forth in a relaxed state. His voice was deeper, which he was also thankful for. No high whiny voice that didn't match the image that he had created over the years. With a sigh Spyro began to trot, mind racing for something to do. "I can't take it! I need to do something! Wait…" He slowed to a stop, head cocked. Then a devious smile slowly crept across his muzzle. '_Who said that I couldn't go off and find an adventure? Obviously nothing is coming my way._' But then he sighed. He had explored every inch of both worlds and beyond. Surely there was another portal or something that led somewhere?

"Look its Spyro!"

Spyro froze; eyes wide and slowly looked behind him. Charging straight for him was a band of girls of all ages, with goofy smiles and wide eyes. And they wondered why he despised being around girls! They practically trample him to death! There was no way to escape except to give them whatever they wanted, Spyro knew this. He jumped into the air, powering his wings with a few strokes and waited as the screaming bunch of females gathered underneath him. How easy it would be if he had a few rotten eggs. Spyro smirked. He would have to remember to do that next time.

"Alright ladies, calm down and I'll land," he soothed. Slowly the wild band of dragonesses quieted down and he landed. "Now, what is it you want?"

"Autographs!"

"Pictures!"

"Tricks!"

"Stories!" It all came at once and Spyro backed up a step at the sheer velocity of the noise. He sighed, wings drooping slightly and leaned back on his hind legs, another ability one can have when they're taller. He instructed the females to form a single line, if at all possible.

Dipping his claw in ink he began to sign autograph after autograph, picture after picture, and related a story of when he saved Avalar for the first time. He actually enjoyed the story, lost in his memories and soon the group was satisfied with their new belongings. Just as they were about to leave another voice spoke out from the hill crest over them.

"Spyro's a fake. A conceded, air-headed fake."

Spyro looked up and met the cold steel eyes of a female his age. She had silver scales and blue plates lining underneath her, with gentle curving horns and a slender, even figure.

"Shut up Azara," One of the older girls snapped, stamping one of her feet. But Azara's eyes never left Spyro's. Suddenly his blood began to boil. So she thought she knew him huh? That because the only way he could possibly escape was to sign autographs and whatnot that he actually enjoyed it? But he just smiled slightly.

"Nice to know that at least one female in the realm isn't attracted to me," He laughed, nodding his head at her. Azara was completely taken back as he stood and began walking away. The mob of females left, leaving Azara standing alone on the crest, watching Spyro go with a sharp eye. He was good at masking his annoyance, except for his tail, which was waving wildly in his frustration. Go figure that the only non-conformist female in all of the dragon realms thought he was conceded and a fake. That defiantly deserves a pat on the back and a claw in the self-esteem area.

Maybe he should go talk to her. Show her who he really was. No, how stupid is that? Either they despised him, or thought him an invincible hero, neither of which he particularly liked. He couldn't even show Cynder and she was as close as a best friend as he was going to get, besides Sparx.

"The great Spyro needs a vacation, or an adventure, which ever comes first and nips me on the tail," he grumbled. Best place for a vacation? Dragon Shores.

He leaned back in the sunlight, sunglasses over his eyes and lawn chair almost horizontal. The waves crashed into shore, children laughed and Elders scolded. So there were dragons here, but that was fine. He could actually feel his annoyances ebbing away. Now, he had wanted to venture out towards the Forgotten Worlds, which were now not forgotten. (Wonder if the Elders have come up with a name for the place. Probably not. Even the Dragon realms needed a better name then that.) He had explored everything but there were still a few places he would like to venture.

"Spyro?" He glanced up to see the emerald eyes of Cynder and a genuine smile spread across his muzzle.

"Hey Cyn! I thought you were training with Ignitus. I hear you moved up to the master ranks in Fire." Spyro sat up and shook some kicked up sand from his scales. Cynder took a seat beside him with a chuckle.

"Spyro, those sunglasses look really stupid on you."

"You know what? I don't care what you think of me," Spyro grumbled and made no move to take off his visors. Cynder shook her head.

"Whatever. Anyways yes they finally made me a "master" of fire, or more appropriately, Shadow Fire. So," she gave a nonchalant shrug even though he could see the tugging of a proud smile on her dark face. Spyro gave a smirk and stared back out at the water when a loud splash caught his attention, then cries of alarm. Spyro sat up straighter, pulling his sunglasses off.

"Awesome," he muttered, blocking the sun from his eyes with a wing. "I love being momentarily blinded."

"What happened?" Cynder reared up to try and see over the scrambling dragons.

"My baby!!" A mother cried. Spyro jumped up into the air and groaned when he saw the problem. A huge whirlpool had formed, and he saw a small child flapping its useless wings desperately at the edge of it, spinning closer and closer to its vortex. Cynder started forward and Spyro followed when a silver blue streak shot by and Spyro watched as Azara dove into the water to rescue the sinking child.

"Who the hell is she?" Cynder yelled over the roar of the violent waters. Spyro shook his head in frustration as he came over the roaring maelstrom. Azara resurfaced with the child and gasped for air. Spyro reached out and grabbed the child up; tossing him back to Cynder who again passed the hatchling away to someone who could take the child to safety.

Spyro looked back down and saw to his dismay that Azara wasn't strong enough to make it out. Without another thought Spyro folded his wings and plunged in after her. The water hit hard, jarring his mind. _Good thing this is the tropics_, he thought. Azara sank down beneath him, frantically paddling with her feet and tail. Spyro swam down and caught her in his arms and shoved himself upwards with everything he had. He could just see Cynder calling for him. But the whirlpool had already taken them down so far that the sunlight above was becoming faint. His gills, which were built in underneath water-scales at the crease between his head and neck, were frantically trying to suck oxygen out of the rushing water. His lungs and muscles burned as he tried to fight against the current and hold onto Azara. He saw Cynder's eyes narrow and shook his head violently but she didn't listen.

Then the water stopped, just as he thought he was going to fade into blackness and die from oxygen. He gasped in relief when he hit the ground, groaning in tremendous pain before blacking out.

Movement. Noise. No light? Slowly Spyro's eyes opened to reveal the eyes of Azara, no longer cold, and an inky black sky. He hesitantly moved various parts of his body, relieved to find that he was just sore, bruised and battered. Azara backed up as Spyro rolled to his stomach before standing, his legs screaming at him in a torrent of pain. Yeah, he was defiantly sore. He looked over at Azara, who stood there watching him with a slight worried look to her eyes.

"Are you okay?" He inquired. She nodded, looking away. She seemed to be shaken up a bit. But, then again, so was he. Spyro looked around and found Cynder still passed out. He struggled over to her and shoved into the black dragoness gently. She gave a sputtered moan and blinked. "Cynder I told you to stay!" He hissed, outraged that she had been put in danger too. She of all dragons knew better. Cynder just gave him one of those looks and pulled herself up.

"Again, sorry for trying to save your tail Spyro. But really, I am just curious to see who she thinks she is," eyes shot to Azara, who glared back defiantly. "What are you, stupid? We could have handled it."

"You were slow and probably would have ended up here – where ever here is – with the poor kid." Azara shot back.

"Enough, you guys aren't hatchlings. We have a bigger problem than pointing claws at each other," Spyro snapped. The daggers weren't lost between the two females but Cynder gave a nod. Spyro looked around him and immediately became disgusted at the sight. Trees stood in twisted mangled messes, and the place smelled of rotting substances. A whole new world, just like he had asked, with the feeling of evil beyond anything he could have imagined. The whirlpool was gone, and they were stranded. "I love my life," he sighed to himself.

"We should probably get moving, and see if we can figure out where we are," he suggested, moving forward.

"Into there?" Azara asked, nodding into the dark forest. It looked ugly. Spyro shot her a look.

"I don't see anywhere else." Yeah his mood was defiantly improving. Azara glared at him. Cynder watched apathetically before taking a sniff at the air. It was stale, as if they were stuck inside a box.

"We could fly."

Spyro shook his head. "We have no idea where we are and this place doesn't exactly look like a play field for hatchlings. It would be safer if we stay low until we at least figure out where here is." Azara sighed and followed him. There was a small pathway and of course Spyro led the way, Cynder not far behind. Azara lagged and impatiently Spyro waited for her. "Stay close."

"Why, so you can protect me?" She snapped. Spyro gritted his teeth. Cynder, keen on keeping her mouth shut, gave Spyro an irritated, let-me-kill-her look.

"I saved you once and I can do it again," he shot back, starting forward again.

"Yeah great saving, you couldn't pull me out."

"I could have just left you. Then you would be here all alone."

"Wouldn't that look great?"

"Obviously I don't look any better now, so I don't see what the difference would have been," came the growling reply. She was stomping on his last nerve. Azara gave a huff but fell silent, much to his relief. He would have torched her if she had come up with another smart tail remark.

The forest, if one could call the mangled mess of trees and vines a forest, was the most depressing place Spyro had ever seen in his life. Even Gnasty's place was kept better then this. Cynder shook her head in confusion.

"I don't get it. Since when did a maelstrom become a vortex?" She asked, glancing at Spyro. He only shrugged, having no idea. This was a new one for him. The aroma got worse, and Spyro began hating the fact that dragons had a wonderful sense of smell. His legs hurt, every movement sending waves of sore pain up his body. And he was exhausted. Maybe they should have stayed in the clearing and slept until dawn.

"This place gives me the creeps," Azara whispered.

"Tell me about it."

Snap.

The trio froze, Spyro and Cynder immediately falling in a battle stance. Azara did the same, with less skill and poise as the two veterans but it wasn't terrible. The silence was deafening. There was something here, he was sure of it, but he couldn't place a location.

With a cry dozens of creatures leapt out at them. Spyro roared; a proud accommodation since his voice changed, and charged who he could, thrashing his head and tossing those in his path out of the way. Cynder released fire balls at those airborne and Azara nailed a few with her tail, using it like a whip. Then a chain encircled his neck, then another on his hind legs. He stumbled to the ground with a crash, letting out a jet of flame before another snapped his muzzle together. He watched helplessly as Azara and Cynder met the same fate and landed beside him. Spyro struggled again, causing some of the creatures to loose their grip.

That was all he needed. Spyro was able to right himself again and began to swing his body anyway he could. The loose chains swung and met the dark colored creatures head one. He fought them off Cynder then shoved her back to her feet. She yanked the chain off her muzzle and began to let loose belt of flames, her emerald eyes growing steely in the battle. He stood his best over Azara, who struggled against her captors until they couldn't restrain her any longer. Her chains became weapons and she wielded them with more ease than he expected from her.

"They keep coming Spyro!" Cynder cried.

The creatures suddenly stopped moving. They stared at him with shocked black eyes, and they were everywhere. Adorning tree branches, bushes, and the forest floor, were hundreds of the things. They were only about three feet tall, with dark blue skin, large almond shaped black eyes and long pointy ears. They stood on two legs, with longer limbs for arms, five fingers for hands and feet, short tails and a squished in face. They were ugly! And entranced, so it would seem, by Spyro. Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other nervously as Azara backed herself up to his side in confusion.

An older one stepped out, wearing a grey robe with a trailing white beard and mustache. His eyes were squinted, and he walked with a cane, hobbling out towards the two dragons. He stopped in front of Spyro, took his cane and quickly placed it behind one of his horns before yanking down so Spyro was painfully eyelevel with the old creature.

"Are you really Spyro Azure?" He whispered, his voice shaking. Spyro didn't answer until one of the creatures pulled off the chain. He sighed in relief, moving his freed jaw, and then looked the old man back in the eye.

"I am."

The old man nodded and pulled his cane out from the dragon's horn. "Lead the three dragons to our home, they are our guests now," the old man instructed, turning around. The creatures rushed over, pulling off the chains as fast as they could before leading Cynder, Spyro and Azara off the path. They walked a few minutes more, shoving tree branches out of the way, before coming upon a trap door. It was large, and covered in the litter of the forest on top, and a layer of dirt underneath so it would feel the same when walked upon.

It was an underground cave, with wide stairs leading down. _Catacombs of some sort. _

"Your last name is Azure?" Azara whispered, looking at him as they carefully moved down the stairs. Spyro just nodded, eyeing the surrounding as the trap door was shut. His pupils instantly enlarged, making the surroundings as bright as daylight in his eyes. Or close to it. "But that means you're the son of –"

"Cairo Azure," Spyro answered with a sad smile. Azara looked away, but his focus was back on the catacombs. After a couple bends they came to a huge underground room. Lined on both sides were pillars and at the far back were long rows of seats piled atop each other. The room was at least twenty feet tall, with the ceiling decorated in an amazing adornment of gems. Torches cast off a golden glow, pans of fire standing in between each pillar. Cynder gave a small gasp at the sight and Spyro could understand why. It was like an underground castle.

"Welcome to Tasari, the hidden world. My name is Elderidge. We are the Moultars all that is left of the Molten Builders from Avalar."

"Wait. You're from Molten Crater?" Spyro couldn't believe it. These guys resembled nothing of the inhabitants of Molten Crater; they were worn looking and filthy. Then he stopped. "Is this Avalar?"

Elderidge shook his head sadly. "Avalar has been uninhabited for a century now. This is the Dragon Worlds."

"What?" Azara breathed. Spyro sat down with a thump, shock written all over his face. Cynder shook her head slowly, eyes narrowed as she tried to process the information.

"That can't be…This is nothing like the realms we just left."

"Tell me Spyro, how did you, Cynder and Azara arrive here?"

"I – we were trying to save a hatchling from a whirlpool when we were sucked down instead. We woke up here." Elderidge nodded sadly at Spyro's explanation. The rest of the molten people sat down on the rock benches, watching with curious eyes the events unfold between the three young dragons and their leader.

"It seems that we were given a second chance," Elderidge muttered. His piercing blue eyes bored deep into Spyro's. "We need your help. Both you, Cynder and Azara can save the Dragon Worlds, and Avalar."

"What about the dragons themselves? What has happened to them?" Cynder questioned.

"They are slaves."

"Slaves? Of who?" Spyro stood again, his eyes burning. There was only so much he could handle in one day, and his entire species becoming slaves was the last straw.

"I can't –", Spyro went over to the old man and shoved his muzzle in his face, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

"Listen to me you little runt, tell me exactly who has done this to the Dragon Worlds and how I can get to them or I swear I will light you up like a firework." The threat was clear and Elderidge shrunk back in momentary surprise. Cynder stepped forward pressed her tail gently against his.

"Spyro, calm down. I don't think he knows," she whispered calmly. Spyro growled and jerked away, pacing. "Can you at least tell us where to go?"

"A place called Loch, where the Magic Crafters used to be."

"USED TO BE?!"

"Spyro cool it!" Azara snapped. He glared at her, filled with wrath and rage so far beyond him that even Azara was taken back.

"Ask for Elora of the fauns. She will tell you everything else you need to know to save the realms."

Spyro closed his eyes, his body sagging momentarily. "At least Elora is still alive."

"Yes, one of the oldest and wisest fauns living. Please, stay here long enough to rest for a while, and then we will help you begin your journey when you wake." Elderidge offered, watching Spyro sadly. Cynder, feeling the weight of the situation, answered for the three of them.

"Please."

Elderidge called down two molten people and they led the trio deeper into the catacombs into a side cave filled with hay. The room was fairly warm, with a comforting smell.

"Go back to the Receiving Room when you wake," one of the escorts informed. Azara nodded her thanks before walking into the hay room. Spyro was already making himself a deep nest, eyes glazed over.

"You defiantly know how to keep your cool," Azara muttered. Spyro shot her another glare.

"Shut up Azara, no one wants to hear your smart tail comments."

"And you think I'm going to stop because the almighty Spyro told me too? Sorry Spyro, but I'm not like all the other females. I see past your image." She sneered. Cynder gave a fierce growl, reminding the silver dragoness that she was here too but Spyro had enough. He tackled her, pinning Azara down before she had a chance to react. She struggled against his strength but couldn't budge.

"Do you think I asked for this Azara? Do you think I beg them all to come and run me over, put me on a high pedestal above everyone else? Do you think I enjoy doing petty things that any dragon can do for themselves, but because I am the "great" Spyro they instantly become weak? It wasn't my fault Gnasty Gnorc was an idiot and missed me, not my fault I stumbled into Avalar, nor was it that I was the only dragon small enough to fit down those holes Bianca create when she stole the eggs. You are just like the other females Azara, you can't see passed my image, you just hate what you see!" His muzzle was literally pressed against hers, and he was trembling in rage. Azara didn't know what to say, but Spyro didn't wait for any apology. He jumped off her and went back to his nest, curling up so his back was to her.

Silently Azara rolled over and curled up, embarrassed that she was pinned against him, but her mind was numb to the things he had told her. Slowly it began to sink in as she drifted off into slumber, that maybe Spyro the Dragon was deeper than everyone took him to be.

Cynder glanced at him after Azara had drifted off. Like him, she was still awake and bothered by the news. "She's a piece of work," she snarled, flicking hay up on Azara's back. Spyro gave a snort in reply, still too angry to reply. "Listen, we'll figure it out. You have me this time and luckily I replace the ever loving chatter of your dragonfly friend." She joked lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Spyro…"

"Not now Cynder…This…I just need to sleep for now alright?"

"Alright."


End file.
